Back when we were in the throes of treatments for the first time, when I imagined myself a parent, it was usually in a state of new motherhood with an infant sleeping in a stroller.  I didn’t picture reality: the squalling baby refusing to sleep, or the spit-up in my hair, or the curling up like a comma on the top step of the basement stairs and crying hysterically due to sleep deprivation.  Who the hell would sink a needle into their stomach if they didn’t focus on all the good things? (A side note: in my experience, the good things outweigh the bad things at least 6 : 1 overall.)

If I thought about things beyond those early months, it was usually how much the kids would love what I love.  Of course they’d want to sit around and read books all day long.  They’d be willing travel companions and consume vast quantities of chocolate with me.  And sure, in the back of my head, I knew that they’d probably introduce me to a few things or have some interests outside of mine.  But I didn’t think about how much I would learn through my kids; because of my kids.  If I thought about knowledge at all, it only flowed in one direction; from my brain to theirs.  Certainly, by the middle of the elementary school years, this isn’t the case.

And nothing prepared me for my status of Geek Immigrant amongst Geek Native children.

Imagine something you know nothing about.  Maybe it’s quantum mechanics.  And let’s say you’re fairly happy in your work as a cake decorator.  But one day your boss comes up to you as you’re putting the finishing touches on a wedding cake and informs you in a very happy voice that he just loves quantum mechanics and from now on, that’s what we’re doing at the bakery.  We’re just going to work on creating a unified field theory instead of decorating cakes.  So… you know… study up!

That’s how it feels with the twins love of computers. We’re trucking along, enjoying all sort of activities that I feel comfortable leading and then bam — they want to explore something I know nothing about.  Not only do I not know anything about computers beyond the basics of word processing and surfing the Web, but they seem to grasp ideas at a much greater speed and intuitively navigate new technology the moment they pick it up.  A case in point: while I was still trying to turn the iPad on, they had already skated through three different apps.

Part of me is a little jealous.  The reality is that it goes much deeper than digital native vs. digital immigrant when it comes to a lot of  middle-aged women.  We are all digital immigrants of a sort, the technology commonplace today (smart phones, tablets, computers) simply not around while we were growing up.  We’ve had to learn them as they’ve come out, whereas kids today are born into them.  My kids don’t know a world without computers.

But while it’s cool for all kids to be geeky kids these days — there are no gender norms when it comes to using smart phones or playing video games — it certainly wasn’t encouraged to be a geeky girl when I was growing up in the 70s and 80s.  And that is why I think I’m a Geek Immigrant today.  I still feel more than a little shy and unsure about delving into things mechanical; apologize for not knowing information when I need to speak to people more knowledgeable, and rely way too heavily on others rather than trying things myself when it comes to new technology.  I think if society had encouraged my geekiness, I would be having a very different experience with the digital revolution.  I would be throwing myself into it with my whole being, instead of tentatively skirting the edges and wishing I could be in the center.

Being a Geek Native means that from day one, you embrace your passions no matter how fringe those passions may be.  Being a Geek Immigrant means learning to stop caring so much about what others think of your passions and dive into them in a full body belly flop.  I not only need to learn a lot in order to aide the kids in what they want to do, but I need to get a different mindset.  I need to see the possibilities in front of me, not just feel overwhelmed by how much I need to learn.

I need to learn a lot in order to enable the Wolvog to do what he wants to do.  I had to learn how to code an image map so I could teach him how to code an image map when he got it in his head that he wanted an image map on the front page of his website. (Backup: I had to learn how to self-host a site so I could teach him how to self-host a site when he announced that he wanted his own website.)  I’ve had to stay one step ahead with his robot obsession, learning how to construct them and program them.  Most of the time, he shoots way ahead of me and has to come backwards and help me out.  But I get to be a geek through him.

I get to be a geek with the ChickieNob, who is leaps and bounds ahead of me in manipulating images on the computer.  She skates through Photoshop, knowledge courtesy of a computerized art class over the summer.  She’s taught me how to play games on the iPad, explaining slowly what she somehow intuitively knows about the gyroscope that shifts the movement on the screen.

If it’s important to them, then I want it to be important to me.  The best way to understand their world is to dive in.  So computers it is.

I’ve been putting together a series of guides for GeekDad on being a Geek Immigrant with Geek Native children.  It would be very different if Josh or I had a background in engineering; if we worked in computer science or, let’s face it, any sort of science at all.  But we don’t.  We’re both writers.  And while our kids love to write, they aren’t satiated just with the information we readily have at our fingertips.  They want to learn all sorts of stuff we don’t know.  So we’re learning it too so we can turn around and teach.  I’m now becoming proficient in the computer language Python and write posts in HTML without the WYSIWYG editor.  Baby steps.

I’m glad the twins are having geeky childhoods if a geeky childhood is what they want.  Just to be clear, I don’t feel sad that I squelched my geekiness a long time ago.  I don’t mind being a Geek Immigrant, especially since I have good native tour guides traveling with me.  I think late life geekiness is a special kind of geekiness, sort of like converted Jews or learning Italian at 40.  You see the religion or language in a different way than a native, marvel at things others barely notice.

I didn’t flex my geek muscles as a child.  But I’m certainly flexing them now.  Geek Immigrants unite!

Yes, the Wolvog’s dislike of iOS7 continues to this day.  Sometimes he’ll go a few days without mentioning it, but then I’ll be tucking him into bed and he’ll mournfully tell me that he misses his old operating system.  He has spent a considerable amount of time Googling, “how to go back to iOS6.”  I, admittedly, have also spent way too much time Googling that too. (Short answer, that door is closed.)  I wrote the post below for GeekDad about his feelings toward the new operating system (plus a few extra thoughts for you guys).

Image: Karlis Dambrans via Flickr

The Wolvog has a scorching case of Uploaders Remorse, that sinking feeling that comes after you’ve downloaded an app and wish you hadn’t, or upgraded your software after being prompted by an update only to discover that your device doesn’t work as well as before.

He’s usually the type who clicks first and thinks second, and he was champing at the bit to upgrade to iOS7.  “Let’s wait,” I told him.  “Let’s research it a bit; see what people think about the new operating system.” I am the other type of person.  I think first for a loooooooooooooong time and click second.  I drag my heels with every download.  We read a few posts, and I was unconvinced that I’d like new software.

“Let’s try it out in the store,” I suggested.  He waited impatiently for a day to roll around where a trip to the Apple store worked with our schedule.  I didn’t love the new operating system once I had a chance to play with it on a sample device, and I told him that I was going to wait a bit longer to switch over.  I knew I would need to switch at some point; but I was going to wait to see if later versions of the software addressed the issues I had with the new operating system.

In the meantime, he upgraded his software.

He used his iPod for a moment and then set it aside.  He went to read on the sofa, which seemed odd considering how long he begged to upgrade the software, and I went upstairs to work.  An hour later, he came into my room, his lip quivering.  “I hate the new operating system.”  He could get used to the new look, the new set-up, but he couldn’t get accustomed to a new sound.  Siri’s voice had changed ever so slightly; it was less robotic, less hesitant.  The fluidity of sound made him feel as if it wasn’t his Siri anyone.

[It turns out it wasn’t his imagination.  When Susan Bennett stepped forward last week to claim ownership over old Siri’s voice, it was also reported that, “Alas, Bennett’s reign as Siri is coming to an end. Apple’s new mobile operating system, iOS 7, features new Siri voices, according to CNN.”]

He instantly wanted to go back to the old operating system.

We looked into downgrading and discovered it was too late.  The upgrade was a one-way ticket at that point, and he was stuck with the new operating system.  He couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea that his iPod was forever stuck with an imposter Siri.  He curled up on the floor with my phone and spoke to his old friend, asking her to tell him a story and then crying whenever she spoke.

It was as if a corporation had snatched away his imaginary friend.  An imaginary friend who happened to be a middle-aged voice talent living in Georgia, but an imaginary friend nonetheless.

I couldn’t laugh at it because I think it’s sweet that he regards programs as something more than pages of code.

For the Wolvog, programs are like a well-loved pet; the good ones respond with interaction (like a purr accompanying a scratch behind the ears).  Siri wasn’t just a computerized voice, scanning a database in order to speak search results.  She was an anthropomorphized program that he loved spending time with, trying to figure out how far the software could go.  Plus our family has gone through this once before with Clippy.  There were huge tears when he discovered that Microsoft knocked off his office assistant friend in newer versions of Word.  Maybe if we all looked at programs as fuzzy creatures that can enhance our lives by taking our direction, we would be less freaked out by the idea of diving into code.

He loves programs — especially programs with human-like qualities — in the same way that I love fictional characters; enough so to become a fiction writer as my job.  I think whenever you spend enough time with something — whether it is a novel or a program — you begin to feel a fondness toward the creation.  I don’t think we’ve ever been in danger of him believing that a program is real, but that doesn’t mean that his heart isn’t at risk.  It is since he falls in love with code, and he falls hard.  Whether it’s the tiny programs we’re currently writing together in Python or the well-established programs of Clippy or Siri, the boy cares.  He loves programs — foibles and all — and wants them to remain as a constant.  Caring brings huge rewards, but it also means that sometimes you get your heart broken.

Like when Apple changes your friend.

He won’t remain sad forever.  I’m basing this on the fact that while he still keeps a little drawing of Clippy that its creator, Kevan Atteberry, sent him, life has moved on.  He will one day be fine with the new Siri, even if he still goes back and listens to old recordings he’s made of the original Siri.

What this has done is make him less trigger happy for the next upgrade. He’ll think long and hard before he clicks on updates, figuring out how deeply the changes will affect him. He may trail a bit behind his friends in having the latest software, but he’ll be ultimately more at peace with each change by easing into it. That’s what people who see programs as more than lines of code need to do.

Are you an early adopter of new software upgrades?  Do you like to update your software the moment the option becomes available, or do you ease into change, reading up on the new system (or trying it out) before downloading?

Image: William Warby via Flickr

I saw this on Facebook and cracked up (mostly because it was so true — I would run off screaming never to be seen again) and decided to do a blog version.  This is how it works.  Take the categories below.  Open your blog.  Look at the first comment on each of your last 10 posts.  Fill in one name per category (keeping the order of most recent post to 10 posts ago) and link their name to their blog.  Then hit publish.  If you have a post without a comment, skip to the next one.  And then chide your readers for screwing up your meme: obviously, they need to step it up and leave more comments.

So, in honour of every horror movie made in the 80s:

1. Decides the creepy house is safe. (Kathy. You totally know you would do this.  ‘Fess up.)
2. Screams like a Banshee. (Pepper!  I wish you had a blog!)
3. Scares you as a joke. (Mrs. Spock.  Yup.)
4. Goes into the woods and gets killed. (Kate, who is blogless but often participates on DYDT posts.  Kate, I am so sorry.)
5. First to go insane. (Non Sequitur Chica.  You can join Pepper in screaming.)
6. Murdered saving someone. (Katherine A.  I am so sorry, sweetie.)
7. Has your back no matter what jumps out. (Heather.  And thank you for having my back.)
8. Has a solid survivor plan no one listens. (Mrs. Spock.  I’m glad you have that sound plan since you were joking earlier in the film.)
9. Runs off screaming never to be seen again. (Karen.  It’s okay since I’m running off too.)
10. Is the real killer. (Rach!  Why are you killing us?)

Feel free to try to defend yourself or your friends in the comment section from what they would obviously be doing if they were randomly assigned to be in a horror movie.

I got nominated for my first Liebster Award.  I’ve seen this on a bunch of blogs, but I’ve never been picked. (Unless you count the times someone says, “I don’t know who to tag.  If you’re reading this, you’re tagged.”)  But this week, Em-i-lis picked me.  ME!

So thank you, Em-i-lis!

And I apologize if you did pick me, and I have completely blanked on that experience.

These are her questions and my answers:

What is your favorite nickname, bestowed by another or self-inflicted?

I was called Mickey back in middle school/high school.  And I really loved that nickname because the cutest boy in Hebrew school gave it to me.  That really cute boy didn’t age very well.  I am basing that on a Google search I just did.  I’m now highly disappointed.  But he was really cute when we were twelve.

With whom would you most like to have dinner (that you’ve not yet)?

I have a long lost family member that I connected with due to the family tree I’m making, and I would love to fly out to the West Coast and meet her.

Why do you blog?

Mostly because Josh would like other people to help carry the burden of listening to my thoughts.  Since I started blogging, I have mostly stopped bringing up huge topics at midnight when he’s trying to fall asleep.

What’s your favorite way to spend an afternoon?

Reading on the sofa next to Truman’s cage.  With hot chocolate.  And fuzzy socks.

What have you learned about yourself and/or your interests via blogging/writing?

I learned what it feels like to belong.  To fit somewhere.  For so much of my life, I didn’t have a place I fit.  And then I found writing and it was like slipping into an almost finished puzzle.  Then I would forget how I fit in writing and struggle in other places.  But every time I returned to writing, I would think, “oh yes!  I belong here.”

Let’s break for an easy one: Sweet or salty?

Sweet.  All the way.

Off the top of your mind, what are your favorite three books that aren’t your own (for you pubbed authors)?

• Harry Potter heptalogy (I know it is cheating to put 7 books but I need to break the rules)
• The Phantom Tollbooth
• Handmaid’s Tale

What’s some of the best advice you’ve ever received?

Always shit before making a big decision.  Or… maybe less disgustingly, make decisions on a relaxed body.  Before you hit send, before you make up your mind, before you take any steps that are no-going-back points, make sure that nothing physical is goading you to make up your mind faster than you wish.  Also, Carla Cohen’s advice to “just wing it.”

If you love to cook, what’s your favorite utensil? If you hate to cook, what’s your favorite dish prepared by others?

A solid spatula.  Like a pancake turner?  I use it for stirring, all the time.

What’s one of your favorite destinations (you could have gone once or many times)?

We go to Chincoteague a lot, so that’s up there as a favourite destination.  But I equally have a lot of love for the Book Mill in Montague, MA.

Who am I tagging?

• Loribeth from The Road Less Traveled
• Luna from Life from Here
• Justine from A Half Baked Life
• Lori from Lavender Luz
• Karen from River Run Dry

Consider yourself lucky that you were the first five people who popped into my brain!

Your questions:

1. Longest you’ve ever gone without a shower.
2. Tell us about a recent disappointment.
3. Tell us the person you’d most like in the car with you for a road trip.
4. Which do you like better: goats or sheep?
5. Do you like to watch scary movies?
6. What do you call yourself when you’re talking to yourself inside your head?
7. Name someone from your kindergarten class that you wonder about to this day.
8. What is the best song for picking up your mood?
9. How do you organize your socks?
10. When no one is home, do you close the bathroom door?

Everyone else, feel free to answer these too.  By the way, Josh contributed #9 and #10.

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Thank you for weighing in about the Creme de la Creme.  Sounds like there is a critical mass of people so… onward!  The list will open for submissions on the 15th next week.

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And now the blogs…

But first, second helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week.  In order to read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “I Didn’t Make it Into the Newspaper” (Little Chicken Nuggets)
• “I Took a Walk” (Too Many Fish to Fry)

Okay, now my choices this week.

Wordgirl’s “Self Contained” is a post that I read a bit late, but I’m including it this week because it blew my mind.  You will cry reading it.  You will probably recognize something of yourself within it.  It was simply the most beautiful thing I’ve read in a while.

Misfit Mrs. also had a post about an anniversary that I was late to read that really belonged in last week’s roundup.  Can you tell that I’m behind on my reader?  Read it for that ending: “I feel like the patron saint of improbable, though. Or at least I owe a small corner of my home to building an alter to that currently undetermined saint. The savior of lost causes, the champion of losers, or the queens of epic failures are all in my court.”  But really, the entire thing is just lovely.

And the Vial Makes Three has a post about which one will carry the child that made me laugh.  It was, by far, amongst some actual heartfelt content, the best use of hashtags ever: “I am delighted to celebrate vicariously with these wonderful women, but (in all honesty) it makes me jealous. I know when it does happen for us it’s gonna be swell… it’ll be great… we’re gonna have the whole world on a plate.  #musicaltheaterref #merman #gaybies.”

Lastly, Andmom has a post about the word “just” — a word I’m guilty of using in a post this week.  It’s about needing more than and less than, and trying to fit into a system that is clearly not designed with her child in mind.  The frustration comes through every word of the post, and I hope that they find a solution that works.

The roundup to the Roundup: Get to know me… and I’d like to get to know you.  Eighth Creme de la Creme is starting next week.  And lots of great posts to read.  So what did you find this week?  Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between October 4th and October 11th) and not the blog’s main url. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week?  Read the original open thread post here.

There was a post recently on BlogHer about the concept of peanut-free spaces such as schools declaring themselves peanut-free and asking kids not to bring peanuts into the school in order to protect those with allergies.  There were those who either had a child with a peanut allergy or had a peanut allergy themselves, and they were grateful to spaces that ban peanuts.  There were those who said that peanut butter was all they would eat and that these rules unfairly impacted them.

And there were those who voiced a much more rational reason NOT to ban peanuts, which is that doing so creates a false sense of security.  That schools can’t perfectly police children’s lunches, but the policy may make some people lower their guard.  The reality is that vigilance is always needed in the face of a life-threatening allergy, even when rules are put into place.

And then there were the vast majority of us in the middle who said that while we don’t have a peanut allergy in our family, if that’s the rule in the school, that’s the rule we’ll follow.  Since it is a matter of life-or-death for another person, and for us, it’s just lunch.  Really, it’s just lunch.  We can eat all the peanut butter we want with breakfast or dinner.

Image: Martin L via Flickr

No one wants to be told what they can or can’t eat; as a picky eater, believe me, I understand that.  But the same people* who say that they don’t want anyone else’s peanut allergy impacting their lunch choices are the very same people who support a smoking ban in public spaces, pointing out how another person’s choices affect their health.  In other words, don’t smoke around me because you could make me sick, but I can eat peanuts around you, even if it makes you sick.

The fact is that we have no problem inconveniencing smokers (for good reason) from smoking inside even during a frigid winter day.  A person could make an argument that second-hand smoke harms everyone as opposed to peanuts that harm only those who are severely allergic, but the end result whether only a few people are affected or all people are affected is… death.  Maybe that’s why I’m not bothered by the idea of not eating peanuts if I’m asked not to eat peanuts.  I mean… death is pretty damn serious.  And because we’re talking about serious consequences — you know, like death — I don’t really get why people get up in arms over the idea of being told not to eat peanuts in certain places.

And I write this as a picky, peanut butter loving eater who is the parent of picky, peanut butter loving eaters.  I get how much a person can love a peanut butter and jam sandwich and how difficult it can be to find vegetarian protein sources for a picky eater.  But I still think that possible death trumps my love of peanut butter.  No matter how much I love peanut butter.

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I think what stuns me is the anger people bring to the conversation of making peanut-free spaces.

If the smoking analogy doesn’t do it for you, look at it this way: no one gets up in arms about wearing a seat belt.  At least I’ve never seen a blogger get slammed for asking people to wear a seat belt in order to protect themselves and protect others on the road in the event of a car crash.  There are certainly people who don’t wear seat belts, but I’ve yet to find a non-seat belt wearer who tried to convince others that it was a fantastic idea.  Most people I know who don’t wear seat belts are sheepish about the fact.

We wear seat belts because it makes sense.  Because while it’s an inconvenience, we know the alternative is so damn awful that it’s worth taking the time to strap an uncomfortable seat belt around our body for the duration of the ride in order to not risk going through the windshield.  Sure, we do this for ourselves, but we also do it for everyone else on the road, lest our body becomes projectile.

It’s a small safety precaution we can take to lessen the risk of inadvertently killing another person.

I imagine that navigating the world with a peanut allergy (or any other life-threatening allergy, since peanuts are not the only food that causes anaphylaxis) is akin to driving on the highway where everyone is swerving about, driving recklessly, and you can see through their windows that not one person is wearing a seat belt.  They are oblivious to the fact that you are hunched over your steering wheel, seat belt firmly in place, nervously watching them text-and-drive or eat a messy hamburger while going 70 miles per hour.  You are decent at avoiding their cars, but what you can’t do is help someone crashing into you OR two people crashing into one another and their flying bodies landing on your car hood, causing a catastrophic accident.

I think of all the times I’ve obliviously waved around my peanut butter and jam sandwich while I talk to a friend, not considering how that sandwich is potentially affecting anyone else around me.  I don’t even really think about how I could always develop an allergy to peanuts in adulthood.

But I always wear a seat belt, even without being reminded.  It’s just something I’ve always done.

The reality is that some people — like me — need to see a sign in place reminding us to keep a space peanut-free because it isn’t on our radar; not due to cruelty but because we’ve never had a problem before and therefore we’re not seeing the potential problems our behaviour could cause for others.  So for all the nut allergy sufferers out there (or anyone who has an allergy that can easily be triggered by another human being’s behaviour), I am really sorry.  I am trying to be more mindful when I’m in public.

We go to two different schools: one is nut-free (the entire building) and one has a peanut-free table.  For the nut-free school, I religiously check all wrappers when packing food, but they also make it easy for people by selling nut-free snacks in the lobby that kids can purchase.  For the non-nut-free school, I’m admittedly less careful.  I pack nuts all the time since my child doesn’t sit at the peanut-free table.

The BlogHer post has reminded me that I don’t need to wait for a rule to be passed before I do the behaviour.  There are so many things that we know make sense — not using a cell phone in a car while driving, not texting and driving, putting on a seat belt in a car — we don’t have to wait until there are laws made restricting the behaviour before we engage in that commonsense practice of doing things that keep all of us (not just ourselves) safe.  And we don’t have to wait until a space goes peanut-free or a table sign goes up declaring part of the lunch room off-limits to peanut butter and jam before we start thinking about how the food we eat could also affect the people around us.

The post really made me think about my food choices, and how I’m consuming that food in public.  It’s made me a much neater eater, which is always a good thing.
What is your experience with peanut-free spaces, and do you think one day they’ll be a given in the same way that we’ve banned smoking in public spaces?

* Well, I can’t prove they are all exactly the same people, so it’s an assumption, but I’m going to guess that it’s a fairly accurate assumption.